


My Treasure

by lennybrucesgirl



Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:54:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23794201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lennybrucesgirl/pseuds/lennybrucesgirl
Summary: When Joan gets kidnapped by one of Fred Thursday's old enemies Morse moves heaven and earth to find and rescue her, his treasure.
Relationships: Endeavour Morse/Joan Thursday
Comments: 15
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So i started rewatching Endeavour with my father over the quarantine and i got caught up in this Morse / Joan spiral again. Can't believe these two still haven't gotten their shit together and given it a go. Anyhow, this story has two or three different timelines, i hope you won't have a problem keeping up though, i tried to make them as clear as possible. For the sake of this story Joan was never pregnant when she went to find Morse at his apartment.  
> PS. I apologise in advance for any grammatical erros, english isn't my native language.

“Where is she?” he shouted bursting into the room.

“Morse, wait!”

Morse grabbed the man from the collar of his shirt and shoved him against the wall.

“I swear to God when I’m done with you they’ll find no bones to bury. Where is SHE?”

\------------------------------------------------------------

How did they get here? Morse can hardly recall the exact details of how it all happened. All he can remember was that for a brief moment he was happy, truly happy. And then someone came and snatched it all away from his grasp, snatched _her_ away. His heart and soul, _his treasure_.

There was always this unspeakable connection between him and Joan. Even from these 30 second long interactions they had at the very beginning, when he would drop by her house to pick up her father for work. The way she playfully teased him, the way she looked at him through the mirrors while applying her lipstick. Even this one night he saw her at the “Moonlight” club with Jakes’ hand up her ass and her pushing him away trying not to make a scene… It’s funny how somehow Thursday turned out to think it was him she’s gone out with that night. He remembered thinking even talking to her would get him in trouble with the boss, but then he was on this train already leaving the platform when he looked at him and said “be good to her”, like he knew. Still, the circumstances never did seem quite right…it was either this case, or that case, or this emergency or him being involved with a girl or two. Not that Joan didn’t have her share of boyfriends of course…

The incident at the bank changed everything. He was on his knees, gun pointed to his face, her watching him from across the room, her eyes wide with terror running towards him screaming “NO” at the top of her lungs. The shock was too much even for him, an overly keen policeman with no mean history of shocking cases on his resume, let alone a girl used to working a 9 to 5 job at a bank. It’s no wonder she ran away, left him standing there too overwhelmed and choked on his own emotions to express what he truly felt about her, hell to even finish his goddamn sentence…

“You mean the world -- _to me_ ”, though he doubts it would have made much of a difference.

He kept thinking about her, more and more. He’s lost even more weight, according to Miss Frazil’s comments, he seemed to be more distracted than usual and a hell of a lot more than his job depended on. And then his phone rang. A call from Leamington, a couple of deep breaths from the other line before hanging up when he spoke her name… _“Miss Thursday?”_

He searched for her of course, he couldn’t have stopped himself even if he had gotten tied up on a street lamp post. She seemed… different at first, trying to look cool like everything was okay, until she broke the mask. _“I thought”_ , she said _“for a minute, nearly…”_. He wasn’t sure what to do or say to that but he’s missed a lot of opportunities before, god knows this might have been his last, she spoke of going abroad. So he took that extra step and closed the space between them, looked deep into these bright blue eyes once filled with a bright lively spark, now full of sadness and pain and disorientation. She felt lost, he could see it and he wanted more than anything to be the one who’d pull her back into the light, help her find herself again. So he kissed her. A simple touch of lips at first, giving her time to pull back if she wanted to, push him away, but she didn’t. She put her hands softly around his neck and slowly ran her fingers through his hair, so he kissed her again, more properly this time. He’s just pulled away and he would have moved to kiss her again if it wasn’t for the key sound at the door. A guy walked in, a bouquet of flowers in hand, moustache, sketchy looking. Joan told him Morse was just the brother of a girl she worked with at the store, come to pick up something she burrowed and just like that he left.

A couple of days later he found her waiting outside his flat with a black eye. It took everything he had to let it go, like she asked, and not pay this bastard a visit. But she was there now, that’s all that mattered. She wasn’t quite ready to go back at her parents’ yet, nor could she return to her Leamington flat, so he offered to let her stay with him for a few days or for however long it’d take her to figure out what she was gonna do next.

“Thank you for this Morse, really. You know I’d never have agreed to this if it wasn’t for me working as your part time decorator for however long I’m staying here.”

“Well it’s true this place lacks a feminine touch.”

“Or any touch, really. Except for this library and your record shelf the rest of the place is practically empty.”

“I’ve never needed much I guess, just a bed and a record player. I spend most of my time at work anyway.”

“Well this doesn’t mean you should be living like this. And there are more things in life besides work, you know”, she said, letting her eyes linger a little longer on his. Didn’t need much to take the hint.

“Joan, I—“

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“But…I want to.”

“You do?”

“Look, it’s always come easy to me with girls. I don’t mean winning them over, because most of the time they come on to me, weirdly enough.”

Joan let out a small giggle. “Why do you say that?”

“Well I—I kind of never…understood what they saw in me to be honest. I’m an unsociable workaholic whose only enjoyments in life are solving gruesome murders, crossword puzzles and listening to the opera.”

“Way to sell yourself, Morse.”

“But it’s the truth!” he pointed out, a smile creeping up his mouth.

“Okay, it may be…partially true but, there are a lot of great things about you! Things that could certainly draw a girl’s attention.”

“Right, such as?”, he asked, not really caring to find out what other girls found attractive about him but rather to get a glimpse of how _she_ saw him.

“Well, you’re really cute. I mean, frustratingly so…but you don’t have this male arrogance in your eyes, like “it’s me and no one else” most guys have. You’re shy and sweet and gentle. You’re loyal and passionate for the things you care about. You’re a proper gentleman. And no matter how angry I’ve gotten over the years to be the daughter of a copper…you save the world. At the end of the day you’re the closest thing to a hero a girl could actually meet in this place. And you’re _a proper hero_ , Morse.”

\----------------------------------------

_“A proper hero.”_

Her words kept ringing inside his head for countless hours…days...after she was taken. God only knows where she was and god only knows how they were treating her and god only knows if she were still alive.

No. Morse wouldn’t let his mind go there, he just couldn’t. He couldn’t bear the thought of a world without her. It just didn’t make sense…him without her…it didn’t make sense. Her parents weren’t in a better state. Mrs. Thursday was merely a ghost wandering around the house, her eyes swollen from the constant crying. Inspector Thursday’s grief was different. Anger and more anger bottling up inside of him, nobody knowing how much longer he’d last before bursting and smashing into a million pieces. He blamed himself of course. His job, his never ending enemies, his personal vendettas with dangerous criminals.

“Sir”, Morse’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

He was sitting at his desk, staring at an empty notepad. He opened his mouth but no words came out. In the end he just gave him a nod, acknowledging his presence.

“Any news?” Morse asked though he knew there wouldn’t be any. If there were his boss wouldn’t be sitting here, lost in his thoughts and he would have been notified.

“Radio silence” Fred replied just for the sake of forming a sentence.

Morse has tried to keep himself together throughout this impossible time. At least in front of others, because the empty scotch bottles lying around his apartment told a different story. But seeing Fred like that, the ever strong, incredibly tough Inspector Thursday looking so lost, so weak, he couldn’t take it anymore. Finally he collapsed on the nearest chair, his face buried in his palms, his whole body spasming with crying. Fred was quick to run to his side. He didn’t ask him the typical “are you okay?” because he knew neither of them were okay, they couldn’t be. Instead he put his hand on Morse’s shoulder in an ever fatherly gesture waiting for the uncontrollable sobbing to stop, letting him know he was there for him.

“You’ll get her back Morse. I promise you. We’ll get her back.”

“You know she didn’t want to have a big public wedding?” he said lifting his face out of his hands. “It was me who insisted, even asked Mrs. Thursday to try and talk her into it…I wanted this for her, the whole stupid extravagant package. I wanted her to know she deserved it, all of it.”

“Don’t blame yourself Morse. If it wasn’t at the wedding it would have been somewhere else. They’d have snatched her on her way to work, at the market, could have been anywhere.”

“And yet they chose our wedding reception.”

“They wanted to strike us all. The entire family, break us to pieces. This isn’t a random group of criminals picking out the easiest option to get the job done Morse, this is personal.”

“I couldn’t protect her.”

“I couldn’t either…But you know how she is this daughter of mine. Tough nut really…she feels she doesn’t need protecting. It’s her against the world in that mind of hers. Her boss at the Welfare told her she could stay out of the case if she wanted, she didn’t.”

“I just wanted her to be safe.”

“Safe? Well, I don’t think Joanie could ever be content with just staying home and dusting your bookshelves now, would she? No matter how much she loves you, it just isn’t who she is.”

“I know. I know it isn’t.”

The phone on Fred’s desk started ringing impatiently.

“Inspector Thursday”, Fred stated picking up the receiver.

Morse watched as his boss’s body froze and the color started draining from his face….


	2. Chapter 2

Morse didn’t really know how to react, just standing there while Joan kept listing his apparently big number of virtues. When she finished talking he was too startled to say anything, just clumsily putting his hands in his pockets and staring at the floor.

“And what do you think of me then?” she asked rather playfully but with a clear sincerity in her voice. “I know I’m kind of a mess but...I must have a saving grace.”

He didn’t speak, but slowly started lifting his gaze to her eyes and swallowed nervously.

“Are you alright--”

“I love you”, the words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

She froze, her eyes blowing wide open, rendered speechless.

“I’m sorry”, he was quick to apologize. “I….I didn’t…mean to say that out loud.”

“You were thinking of it then.”

“I’m always thinking of it…well of you, actually.”

“Wow” she exclaimed smiling at him “this has to be the most awkward love confession in history.”

He smiled back hesitantly and awkwardly started running his fingers through his hair.

“I told you, I’m terrible at these pre-relationship things. I think I’m good at the boyfriend stuff but…I find it kind of hard to get there."

“Well” she breathed walking towards him “better help you out then.”

Pulling his hands out of his pockets she gently put them on either side of her waist. She didn’t need to do more than that. He pulled her closer and sealed her lips with his, slowly positioning his hand up her back and finally reaching the bottom of her neck, stroking her hair. Kissing her was complicated…but also simple, heart-racing…but also calming, happy…but also full of melancholy.

“I don’t know about your boyfriend skills” she said pulling her lips away from his “but if they’re half as good as your kissing…”

“I may stand a chance?”

“Maybe…not sure yet, I think I’d like to try another round, just to be certain”.

“Your wish is my command” he teased, putting his smiling mouth on hers.

\---------------------------------------

She was in a dim-lit, humid basement, she could tell this much. Must be the fifth or sixth day. It was hard to keep count when you didn’t see the sun. Things could have been a lot worse though, she’s heard horrible, unimaginable stories from women who had been kidnapped, or children who had been abused down at the Welfare. Still, it was a heartbreaking picture. Her, tied up in an old rusty chair her wedding dress still on, stained with blood. Her eye must be a good shade of purple, she thought, didn’t really have a mirror to check. Her ribs were pretty bruised too, had a chance to check those when they let her take a quick shower two days ago.

What made her heart ache the most though wasn’t her current situation but the thought of her family and Morse losing their minds. They’d be blaming themselves, her father and Morse, she was sure of it. Feeling guilty for not keeping her from harm, her two never resting superheroes. She wished more than anything she could talk to them, tell them to stop torturing themselves like that, but the kidnappers wouldn’t be allowing her any phone calls nor doing her any favors. She would have been in Scotland now, she thought, on her honeymoon with Morse, strolling around the green hills and the picturesque little villages, drinking authentic scotch and trying different kinds of butter cookies, but when has her life ever worked out the way she’s planned it? Why change now? She missed Morse, god she missed him so much. His beautiful eyes, his sweet boyish smile, his tender touch… _her husband_. She was Mrs. Joan Morse now…had a nice ring to it, she thought, never did like the name Thursday.

The sound of steps approaching pulled her out of her thoughts. The door cracked open and her kidnapper walked in, one of her father’s old nemesis, George Acker.

“Miss Thursday” the man said, and Joan's heart skipped a bit thinking of a more familiar, loving voice once calling her by that name.

“It’s Mrs. Morse actually” she corrected him, shooting a meaningful look at her wedding dress.

“You’re right. Please, pardon me for not giving a shit”, he said moving closer to her. “I called your father.”

Her eyes widened and she felt a sudden pain in her chest, making it hard to breathe.

“Tough nut, your old man. But…everybody has a weakness, family’s always been his. Still, he didn’t break…yet.”

He pulled a chair from a dark corner of the room and sat in front of her, so they were face to face.

“I think I scared him a bit though. I told him you haven’t been doing so well, maybe you wouldn’t last a lot longer…”

Joan’s face became a mask of rage.

“You bastard!” she spat out.

“But, like I said…unyielding. Although, I think I got him for a minute there. He didn’t speak for like a full 10 seconds after the things I told him.”

She tried to remain silent, stand her ground, not make matters any worse.

“Finally, he started spitting the usual crap about justice and punishment and consequences and people suffering because of me and same old, same old. So…” he exclaimed getting up from his chair and kicking it sideways, dropping it on the floor with a loud thump.

“Are you ready for your beauty shots?”

“My what?” she asked, with as much hostility as her voice could fit in these two little words.

“See, I can’t let your daddy play me like this. I can play too, you know. If my voice on the phone wasn’t enough to get him to do what I want, there are always other ways” he said and taking a step closer he gave her a strong punch in the eye and a second one in her nose.

She wanted to scream, but she bit her lip, bit it down so hard it started to bleed. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth entirely and an excessive amount of it started running down her nose, staining her chin and the neckline of her dress.

Acker moved deeper into the room and grabbed a camera sitting on a rusty table.

“Perfect”, he said as he pressed the button, taking the first picture. “You know I was thinking of portraits at first, but your bloody wedding dress adds so much to the tragedy”, he said, taking a second and a third picture.

“I think these will do. Pleasure working with you…Mrs. Morse”, he mocked and shut the door, leaving her alone in the darkness again, only this time covered in even more blood.

\-----------------------------------------

Fred hung up the phone and collapsed on his chair, his face pale like a ghost.

“Sir?” Morse voiced with concern “are you alright?”

“He…” Fred breathed loosening his tie “he said she’s not doing well.”

Morse’s heart was hammering, threatening to jump out of his chest at any second. He needed to distance himself from this, turn off the husband mode and turn on the policeman if he ever hoped to solve this. Look at it like it was just another case.

“He’s just bluffing. He wants to upset us to get his way. I’m sure she’s fine. She must be.”

It didn’t take long for her pictures to make it to the police station and from there to her father’s desk. Morse was…devastated, if that’s a word you could use. Truth is, no words in the English language could describe what he felt when he saw them, the shattered look on his face seeing her covered in bruises, her wedding dress covered in blood.

He hadn’t seen her wedding dress before the ceremony. Joan wanted it them to pick it out together but Mrs. Thursday insisted it was bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her dress before the wedding. So she went with her mother, trying on dress after dress in absolute secrecy, to keep the bad luck away…for all the good it did them.

The scream escaped his lips before his brain had time to process it, to stop it. He threw the pictures on the floor and stormed out of the station smashing everything in his way, like a bull in a china shop. This would end. Now.

\---------------------------------------

Her dates with Morse were casual. A stroll in the park with an ice-cream cone in hand, the movies, a theatre maybe, sometimes they would just stay in, cook dinner together and eat while listening to a record or debate about a social matter. It was…easy between them now, comfortable, and she really felt like home in his small bachelor pad. Of course it wasn’t bachelor anymore, she’d started decorating it, picked up some cushions for the sofa, a set of curtains for the windows, a couple of vases, which Morse’s keen habit of bringing her flowers almost every day always kept full.

They didn’t sleep together until the end of their second week of dating. Joan has been with her share of guys, but with Morse it was different. In her previous relationships she had to put out after the second date or she knew they would blow her off. He, on the other hand, had fallen in love with her without so much as a kiss, so she wanted to take her time, do this right. Of course he wouldn’t even consider moving his hands further down her waist when they were making out, oh yeah, look up the word “gentleman” in the dictionary, you’ll see “Morse” written right next to it. And she loved him all the more for it. She knew she’d be the one to make the first move on this, give him the signal, which she did that night they started fooling around on the sofa.

“I have a body below this waist, you know. Otherwise I’d have a really hard time walking.”

He smiled shyly and his cheeks blushed. “I didn’t want to…make you uncomfortable.”

“I know and I appreciate it, really, but…” she said grabbing his hand and putting it on her thigh “I think I wouldn’t mind a little…discomfort” she teased and they burst out laughing.

It all went on pretty differently after that, because Morse could be really affectionate if he knew he had permission to be. She’s had good sex before, if you wanted it to put it that way, with men that knew what they were doing, but this was something else. These were feelings that have been bottling up for years finally breaking free. It was two people that meant the world to each other finally becoming one, it was wholesome, therapeutic, for both of them. She knew she’d be safe with him, that he’d take good care of her and she finally felt this was a safe place for her to fall….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about the ways more could ever say "i love you" to Joan and spitting it out awkwardly in the middle of her sentence seemed the most Morse to me. Anyway, let me know what you thought in the comments, any kind of feedback is very much appreciated :)


	3. Chapter 3

The first time he woke up with her lying next to him, covered in nothing but a bedding sheet, he felt complete. Like all the pieces have finally fallen into place and they were right where they were supposed to be all along. He made love to her with everything he had, like he was afraid she may go away and this might be his only chance. He looked at her, blue eyes on blue eyes and he couldn’t remember a time he’s felt more content. She opened her eyes and looked at him.

“Good morning beautiful” he said stroking her cheek.

“Good morning” she said bringing his finger on her lips and kissing it.

Happy, he was _happy_.

\---------------------------

They didn’t show the pictures to Mrs. Thursday. They knew her heart wouldn’t take it. Morse hadn’t slept in three days going over all the evidence they’ve gathered so far again and again and again trying to find a lead. Something that could show them where she was being held.

“We can’t do this anymore, Morse. We have to give him what he wants.”

“Even if we did it wouldn’t do any good. This vendetta is personal sir, he’ll kill her and run away the second he hears we’re dropping the charges. And you know she wouldn’t hear of it. She’s worked really hard to save that girl from him. You think she’d want him to run away with his daughter again, just so he can keep abusing her?”

“And what would you have me do then Morse, eh?” Fred shouted. “If I go forward with the charges he’ll kill her and if I drop them he’ll still kill her? What should I do? Sit here, light my pipe and wait for God to show us mercy?”

“The only way to save her is to find out where he’s keeping her, lure him out with some excuse and get her out while he’s still away.”

“Splendid idea Morse, splendid” he said ironically “And how do you propose we find his lair then?”

“Actually, I think I might have a lead, something I found in an old investigation paper. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“You mean you’re going alone?”

“I think it’s best we’re discreet about this, sir. You’re certainly being watched, I can slip away more easily.”

“Have it your way then” he said defeated “but be careful Morse. The last thing I need is you ending up in a dark shithole with a gun at your head.”

“If I knew they’d put me in the same shithole as her, I wouldn’t think twice about it.”

“Don’t I know it…” he said, feeling an itch in his heart, seeing how much this bloke loved his daughter.

\------------------------------------

 _“My treasure”_ , that’s how Morse called her. He’d said it was from an opera called “Andromeda e Perseo” by Haydn. Apparently it’s what Perseus exclaimed when he found out his beloved Andromeda has tragically died.

“That’s morbid!” she’d told him.

“Well, you don’t have to think about the dying part.”

“You bet I won’t… What should I call you then? I fear I don’t have such a wide imagination or a rich vocabulary.”

“You don’t have to decide right now, Morse is fine.”

“Alright, but I _will_ come up with something!”

“I’m sure you will.”

She started thinking about various endearments she could use. “Babe” was out of the picture altogether, that’s how she usually called her girlfriends. “My love”, “dear”, “darling”, they all seemed too cheesy. Finally she settled for “sweetheart” for a more everyday use, but still couldn’t find something that could quite equal Morse’s “treasure”. That was until that afternoon at her new job at the Welfare. It was the first case she had been entrusted with and she had this really important meeting with the family lawyer, but she completely forgot to bring the documents she’d spent all last night working on. She didn’t have the time to go to the flat, take the papers and go to the appointment, it was on the other side of town. So she called Morse, thank god she found him at the station, he made up some excuse and left to fetch them for her.

“Oh my god. You’re my guardian angel!” she said giving him a big excited kiss. He seemed quite taken by it.

“If I knew this would be my reward I’d make you forget your papers more often.”

“Now you’re just—Wait a minute…that’s it, angel. That’s what I’ll call you then!” she exclaimed and looking tenderly into his eyes she said “you’re my angel.”

Morse stroked her cheek softly, tracing her jaw line with his fingers.

“And you’re my treasure. The most valuable and shiny part of my world” he said and kissed her.

“Shit, I have to go” she checked her watch “I’m running late!”

“When are you not?” he teased, but she was already running away, only turned to give a playful wink at his remark.

\-----------------------------

Morse never has been the revenge type. Over the years he’s stumbled upon cases of horrible crimes committed in the name of revenge, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it...why would people go that far, ruin their lives for the sake of it. Now he got it. Now he finally understood. Now that the most important person in his life has been so cruelly taken from him.

He reached the old abandoned parking lot he hoped he’d find one of Acker’s old associates at. He strolled around the place for some time but didn’t find anyone there, he’d pretty much given up when he heard a sound from the back of a partially collapsed wall. He approached carefully, hand hovering over his gun. In a split second he saw a blurry figure and then a man running away.

“Stop!” he shouted and started chasing after him.

“I have a gun and I’m not afraid to use it!” he pulled the gun out of his pocket and aimed it at the man’s back. It worked. The man put his hands in the air and turned around slowly, he seemed to know the drill.

“Who are you?”

“Detective Sergeant Morse, City Police.”

“Shit. How did you even find me?”

“I need some information about George Acker.”

“Ha!” the man breathed in a mocking laugh. “I’d rather you shoot me right now, at least it’ll be painless. Can’t say the same for Acker if he learns I’ve ratted him out.”

“He won’t. And even if he does, he won’t be alive for long to come after you once I find him.”

“I don’t know where he is. I haven’t seen him in years.”

“I know that, but can you tell me of a building, a warehouse, a basement, anything at all he could use to hide something or…someone?”

“Oh, I see. He’s got one of your own then? A copper.”

Morse hesitated for a second but he told himself, it was all or nothing.

“He’s got my wife” he said and though his hand remained steady his voice cracked.

“Look, whatever this is, I can’t tell you. And don’t even bother with the usual bullshit about shoving my ass in prison cause we both know, you got nothing on me, nothing you can prove at least.”

Morse lowered his gun like it was too heavy for him to hold. He felt like the weight of the world was crashing his shoulders and he couldn’t bear it any longer. He has failed. Her. _He has failed her_. He got to his knees and heard the sound of the gun dropping on the ground without noticing it slipping from his fingers. He looked up to the man’s face, tears forming in his eyes.

“Please” he said, his voice so broken he couldn’t have told it was his had he not sensed his lips moving. “She means the world to me. I’m nothing without her… _nothing_! I would gladly walk to the gates of hell to see her happy. I’m begging you…. _help me_.”

The man looked at Morse shocked. He’s met every sort of copper in his life, top class bastards most of them, but this…was something else. This man was broken, completely and utterly shattered and even he wasn’t such a cold son of a bitch to not feel his heart ache for him.

“I’ll probably regret this…” he said “you have to swear you’ll protect me if it comes to it. If he finds out, I’m dead meat.”

Morse looked confused. He couldn’t understand what this man was telling him, he couldn’t let himself believe what he was saying.

“I swear it” he managed to breathe out.

“I know a place he used when we worked together, an abandoned warehouse by the old train station, it’s buried behind some trees, two floors ground and basement.”

Morse got back on his feet, hope filling his chest for the first time in days.

“Thank you” he managed to say, his voice full of gratitude.

The man nodded, turned his back and walked away.

\--------------------------------------------

They’ve been together for a couple of months when Morse popped the question. It was a cool spring night, full moon in the sky, so they decided to have a picnic in the park, a chequered tablecloth, snacks and a bottle of wine. It turns out it was a little breezier than Joan had thought and she started feeling a little cold. Morse hadn’t brought his coat along, so he had to keep her warm himself. He sat in front of a big tree his back resting on its trunk, with Joan between his legs. He circled his arms around her and placed his lips on her temple giving her a soft kiss.

“I love the night sky” she said “the moon, the stars…”

“Here” he said, taking her hand in his “let me show you.”

Guiding her fingers with his he started tracing constellations in the night sky.

“This is ursa major” he said, showing her the formation of the stars “and this is Andromeda.”

“Andromeda? The one from this opera you told me about?”

“Yes, that’s her.”

“Wow…you’re such a geek.”

“Excuse me?” he said half-laughing.

“With your operas and your constellations…geek, geek, geek.”

“I’ll have you know astrology is one of the most interesting science fields.”

“And helps you score romantic points with the ladies.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining a minute ago” he deadpanned and she let out a small giggle but said nothing.

She put her hand on his, intertwining their fingers. He kissed her temple again, a little deeper this time.

“I wanted to give you something” he breathed, laying a kiss on her hair.

“A present?”

“You could say that” he said and using his free hand he fumbled in his pocket for the little box. He used his fingers to get it open and put it on her lap, where she was still playing with their intertwined fingers. She let out a small surprised breath and covered her mouth with her hand.

“Oh my god, Morse!” she exclaimed looking at the ring “it’s so pretty!”

She took the box in her hands and looked at it closely.

“It was my mother’s, her mother’s before her.”

She turned her body to the side so that she could see his face.

He looked her in the eyes. He’s always loved her eyes, that bright blue color of theirs, but tonight with the moon casting its light upon them they looked sparkling, mesmerizing. He opened his mouth to properly ask the question but he couldn’t. Like that morning she walked away and his feelings got the better of him, forming a lump in his throat, making it impossible to speak. Someone less in love might have done it…said the words, kept her there, but he couldn’t. Just like then he looked at her, his eyes filled with tears, only this time they were happy tears, because she knew the question and he knew her answer without them having to open their mouths.

Words, he thought, _what are words?_ Their eyes have always said everything and more. More than a simple formation of letters could ever manage to express.

She threw her arms around him in a tight hug and she was laughing and crying at the same time and he was silent, taking it all in. _This moment_.

She looked into his eyes, their foreheads touching.

“I love you, my angel.”

“I love you more, my treasure” he took her hand in his and put the ring on her finger.

“Please believe me to have been” he breathed looking in her eyes “yours… _always._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you liked it! Next chapter's probably going to be the last one, still not sure cause I haven't written it yet :)

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wanted to see a proper Morse-saves-Joan-from-bad-guys story on the show. We got the bank episode but for me it wasn't nearly enough. Please comment your thoughts or feedback, things you liked or didn't like or things you'd like to seee next. I think this work will have around 4 chapters, still not sure though. Thanks for reading! xx


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